


[u]ntitled consciou[s]ness

by androidkisser



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ending C (NieR: Automata), F/F, Post-Ending E (NieR: Automata)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29595945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androidkisser/pseuds/androidkisser
Summary: I'm back, ishish.I just needed a palate cleanser, there might be more, there might not. it depends.
Relationships: 2B/A2 (NieR: Automata)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 26





	[u]ntitled consciou[s]ness

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back, ish  
> ish.
> 
> I just needed a palate cleanser, there might be more, there might not. it depends.

“How long has it been?”

2E sighs. She doesn't know, and Nº2 knows that she doesn't know. “I don't know,” she replies.

“Mm.” Nº2 hums, drawing little circles on the dusty floor with her index finger. “You really think–”

“Don't,” 2E says, with a grimace. “Please.”

“... Yeah. Sorry.”

“It's fine,” 2E mutters, waving a hand, lazily. “I don't think there's anyone left here, no.”

There's a pause. Nº2 doesn't say anything, and neither does 2E. There's a sort of unspoken acceptance hanging in the air.

“It really might just be us, then?”

“Think so,” breathes 2E, but she isn't sure how to continue. It's a chilling thought, so she chooses to simply try to avoid processing it too much.

“Anemone was right,” Nº2 scoffs.

“She might've been.”

“You actually think so?” replies Nº2, almost a little incredulous.

“I mean,” 2E begins, watching the other woman continue to trace a circle in the dust. “Yeah. We were idiots to try. We should've stayed put.”

“Maybe,” says Nº2.

“You were the one who just said –”

“I was _kidding_. Nah, I... I think she was stupid. She cared. Wanted us to be comfortable in the old camp. But it would've been a slow death there too. Least there was hope this way.”

They both look out from the would-be window of the building; the glass had shattered long ago, and it lies in a pile on the sill. The 'apartment' (they had learned that it was called that, from their Pods, long ago) was perched precariously on a cliff edge, gazing out across an open expanse of water.

“ _Was_ ,” 2E points out, sullenly. “There _was_ hope.”

“Yeah,” Nº2 sighs in acknowledgement, “was.”

Another pause.

“That's salt water,” 2E says, still looking out of the window at the sea. “There's no way.”

“How bad could it be?” Nº2 says, with a forced attempt at sounding airy.

“It'd get to our joints in a couple hours, with our condition,” 2E says, picking at her peeling artificial skin, and looking at Nº2's, which was admittedly in an even worse state. “It'd be pointless.”

“This long with me, and you still don't know when I'm screwing with you,” Nº2 says, meeting 2E's eyes. The combat visor was long gone; discarded decades ago when it ceased to function. They weren't feeling sentimental. “It's okay.”

2E is perfectly still. “Is it?”

“Yeah. It's okay. We tried.”

“Yeah.”

“Listen,” Nº2 says, her dust-circles abandoned. She reaches out, and rests her blackened fingertips on 2E's bare knee, gently. “We had a good run. You wanna know what I think?”

2E hums an affirmation.

“Whatever's left out there? On the other side of that? Who cares,” Nº2 states, firmly. It's enough that even 2E lets out a short, sharp exhale. “Machines, androids – seriously, who cares? It's not our problem.”

“Then what _is_ our problem, now? If it's _all_ gone, what are we still here for?”

“I dunno about you,” Nº2 says, with a little exasperated sigh, placing the palm of her hand on 2E's thigh, “but I'm here for you. Until we're done.”

2E sniffs. “Yeah. I know.”

“You could at least say it back,” says Nº2, with a little half-smile.

“You already know it,” mumbles 2E, “or I wouldn't be here.”

“The end of the world, and you're still as stubborn as a goddamn boar,” Nº2 remarks, throwing her hand up in the air, then letting it land back on 2E's leg with a gentle smack. The sound still echoes through the empty building. “Yeah, I do know.”

“The end of the world,” 2E repeats, slowly, as if tasting the words. “When was the last time you even saw a boar?”

“Good question,” Nº2 says, thankful for even the slightest hint of levity in the air. “Miss 'em, though.”

2E sighs, but the tiniest upturn of her lips betrays her. “Are you sure we have the same personality data?”

“You ask that nearly every time I open my damn mouth,” Nº2 says, mirroring the sigh. “I dunno. Maybe they screwed up. Only gave you the sulky bits.”

“Feels like it,” 2E whispers. She looks up, at the older android, and sighs. “How long do you think we have?”

Nº2 furrows her brow, debating whether she wants to make light of it, or be honest. Grudgingly, she settles for the latter.

“My reactor's been fried for about a month now,” she says, softly. “Been that way since we came through that desert.”

“I still don't know what that means,” says 2E. “You've never told me how it works.”

“Well, it's not like we can repair it either way, right?” She catches 2E's glare, then quickly continues. “Means it's working at maybe a quarter load of what it should be. I dunno what to tell you. It's bad.”

She decides to shield her from the truth – the full extent of the damage. At least for now.

“... is there anything I have that'll help?” It's asked in a voice so quiet that it's barely audible above the roar of the ocean.

“Nope,” Nº2 says, quickly, “and you know I wouldn't let y–”

“You are _not_ leaving me alone!” She practically leaps to her feet, looking down at the other woman. It's an outburst so sudden that she even startles herself, as well as Nº2. “I don't care if I end up rotting in this goddamn place with you until the black boxes give out, if I can help keep you here with me, I will! Do you honestly think for a second that I'll– that I'll...”

“Hey – relax,” Nº2 whispers, standing up slowly, and drawing 2E into a gentle embrace that's reciprocated far quicker than she expected. 2E is racked with sobs that shake her frame – and Nº2's, too. “Hey. I'm sorry, okay? I get it. I do. We'll run diagnostics.”

There's a fragile silence, for a bit, broken only by the occasional unwilling sound from 2E. Nº2 can't help but think they're more similar than anyone could know, after that outburst.

“You won't be alone,” Nº2 murmurs, into 2E's hair. “Promise. Sorry. Just wasn't thinking.”

“Yeah,” 2E says, muffled by Nº2's shoulder. “I'm sorry. I just – yeah.”

“I know,” says Nº2. “I know.”

“Your hair stinks.”

“Thanks. So does yours.”

“Your neck is filthy.”

“... thanks. You done?”

“When did we stop caring?” 2E asks, genuinely, after a pause. “Did we already give up?”

Nº2 seems to consider the question for a moment, still gently holding 2E in place.

“Nah,” she says. “It just stopped being important.”

“Your skin's all gone,” 2E says, with a little sniff, as if she'd never noticed in the years prior. It's true, too. The only place there's any left is Nº2's face, and it's starting to fade and peel even there, too. “I hate this.”

“Yeah,” Nº2 mutters. There isn't really much she can do about it, and they both know it. “Guess you're gonna have to be the good looking one from now on.”

2E punches her in the side, with all the force and fury of a moth's wings beating against a hand cupped around it. “Be serious.”

Nº2 smirks, even though it's unseen. “There's rainwater pools in the ruins down there,” she begins, slowly. “We can get cleaned up.”

2E doesn't respond.

Nº2 hurriedly starts to backtrack. “It's stupid. I know. I just thought –”

“No. I'd like that.”

A sigh of relief slips from Nº2's slightly parted lips. She smiles, despite it all. “Me too.”

**

In the end, they end up cutting each other's hair with what's left of their blades, roughly. It's either too matted or too tangled – and truthfully, they both know that it's too much of a hassle to deal with, any more.

“It'll grow back,” Nº2 says. “Probably.”

“I hope not,” hums 2E. “The sword was barely sharp enough this time.”

Nº2 faux-pouts. “I liked your hair long like that. Looked more like me. Always a good thing.” _It's strange,_ she thinks, to herself. _She still looks like 2E._

“You're incorrigible,” says 2E, letting the shattered excuse for a weapon drop to the floor with a sigh. “We look even more alike, now – not that it matters.”

“Isn't that the whole point of this?” Huffs Nº2, quietly. “It _does_ matter.”

2E even laughs, at that, looking at the two of them scrubbing dirt from their blackened bodies. “Yeah. I guess you're right.”

They're interrupted by a series of ear-piercing, jarring sounds – like a cocktail of glass and metal being stirred up at high speed.

“That's – mm. That's not ideal.”

“What?” 2E asks, leaning over.

Nº2 hesitates. Fights back the grimace. It hurts like hell, but she'd sooner die here and now then tell 2E that.

“Tell me.”

“Reactor just gave out.”

2E simply meets her eyes. There's _something_ in how she asks: “so, how long now?”

So much for keeping the full extent from her, then. She'd hoped she had a little longer.

Figures.

“Backup power gives me a few hours. More or less. Then...”

“What do we do?” 2E interjects.

“Do?” Nº2 asks, puzzled.

“Yeah,” 2E repeats, “what do we do?”

“I – I dunno what to tell you,” Nº2 mumbles. “This is pretty much –”

“Then we'll do it on our terms,” states 2E, resolutely. “The Black Boxes.”

Nº2 looks at her, pressing her lips together firmly. “Not like that. Not like Nº4, she –”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah.” There's a pause, then, “wait.”

“What is it?”

“Your Black Box,” Nº2 whispers. “Yours doesn't need a reactor. Mine does. If – no, I mean...”

“Spit it out,” 2E implores. “We're not exactly swimming in –”

“Would you shut it for a second?”

2E simply lets her arms hang, limply. Waiting.

“Look, I don't even know if it'll work, but when Nº4 –” she hesitates, just for a moment, then continues, “I've done it before, but...”

“What exactly is it you're thinking?”

“We could share yours.”

2E looks, silently. “We won't be able to do anything else but share power, then.”

“Yeah,” Nº2 breathes. “Anything comes for us, that's it either way.”

“How long would it give us?”

“... as long as it holds out, I guess. This is where we hope YoRHa didn't cheap out on us.”

“Is it what you want?”

Nº2 looks lost for words. “What _I_ want? I'm the one –”

“Yeah. You are,” 2E says, drawing in a deep breath. “I'm not living without you, and you're not dying without me. I'll live with you, or I'll die with you. That's the choice.”

_Of course._

“We'd be together – forever.”

“Don't get romantic on me.”

“I'm serious. It'd be sharing more than just a power source.”

“I've been in your head before – remember?”

“I remember, yeah. You don't.”

2E is quiet. She doesn't.

“You think something, I'll know. If... if I'm in pain, you'll know. There's no way back from this. You gotta be sure about it.”

“Are you?”

“Can't say I am,” Nº2 says, in barely more than an exhale. “But it beats dying. I'd made my peace with it, before. Now, I... yeah. I'm not ready to go yet.”

“That's all I needed to know,” 2E says, pulling out her Black Box without a second's hesitation. “What do I need to do?”

**

They look more machine than android – well, human, they both suppose – by the time they're done.

There's exposed wiring everywhere – there's tubing for essential fluids and coolant running between them, and their Black Boxes are borderline cannibalized; it's more like one box than two, now.

They're lying together, in front of the window looking out over the ocean.

“We're just on essential processes now,” 2E says, matter-of-factly. “Well, almost. I'm about to shut down our motor functions, then there's just –”

“You're so calm,” Nº2 says. “I'm not.”

“It'll be okay,” 2E reassures her. “We'll be okay.”

“I don't want you to feel this,” whispers Nº2, barely audible over the crash of the waves against the cliff face. “This... this – fear. When you, you know, flip the switch, or whatever, you – I can't hide it from you any more. If it doesn't work right, or if you see something you don't like in there, I...”

“Did I dislike anything back then? When I was with you, way back.”

“No, but –”

“Then stop worrying about that,” says 2E, softly cutting across her. “If it doesn't work like it should, we'll have just about enough time to reverse it enough to diagnose it, and figure something else out. If not, we tried. We did our best.”

Nº2 is silent for a moment. Then, she says, “I'll miss how it feels when you touch me.”

“We can simulate it,” 2E says, at first, before biting her lip. She hadn't meant it to sound so callous. “I know. I'll miss it too.”

“I'll miss your voice.”

They both know they'll hear it, even in their consciousness, but it's not the same.

“I'll miss yours, too.”

“Yeah.”

2E takes Nº2's hands in her own, and places them over their Black Box – it's half protective, half symbolic.

“I don't want to leave you,” Nº2 says, artificial tears filling her artificial eyes, thanks to the very real emotions. “You're so –”

“I know,” 2E hushes her, gently. “We're not going anywhere, though.”

“When did we commit to this bullshit flavor of role reversal?” Nº2 sighs, forcing a smile. “I'm supposed to look after you.”

“When did you decide that?”

“Probably when you came back for real. You know, after the tower,” she says, with a dry laugh that ends in a choked hiccough. “Figured you'd need it if even I lasted longer than you.”

“You're probably right,” says 2E, with a sigh. “As usual.”

“Shut up,” Nº2 says, a tear threatening to roll down her cheek, for what might be the last time. “I'm glad you're here. I'm glad it's you.”

2E leans in, resting her forehead against Nº2's. “Yeah. You ready? I don't want to cut it too close. No taking chances, now.”

“Would you take 'no' for an answer?”

“Yeah, I would.” 2E whispers.

“I know you would,” replies Nº2. “Yeah, I'm ready.”

2E smiles; wordlessly, deliberately, she– – – …


End file.
